Monthly Archives: December 2015

A year of many firsts. The year when I met my mindfulness. Which brought many rich harvest seasons. And had my first truffles by a World Chocolate champion.

The sinfull year of drinking Italian Asti dolce on the land of champagne.

The year of not letting the unnamed dis-ease get me down by just keeping going every morning. The year of my new gratitude mantra I repeat till it shines through and passes its light on passers by.

The year I speak four languages a day and wonder every evening when i get out of the office building which country I am in.

The year i relearned to write en coursive, the proper academic way. Useful, by the way, even in the digital era, when you want to send a proper card and make a postman happy he keeps his job.

The year i visited my most Eastern city, by European standards.

The year, goodbuys turned into thanks for new amazingly inspiring people, sun sets and sun rises of unseen before colours and shades.

The year of positive thinking and wording turning into others positive action right before my eyes.

The year I descovered reflexology and cruelty free cosmetics (sorry, little ones, for my ignorance so far).

The year of my first ginger smelling home for Christmas.

The year I realised I not need to own a house to feel at home. It also tought me to embrace minimalism and the healthy “do i realy need it?” question while shopping. I have seven pairs of trousers hanging in my closet, do i realy need to buy the eighth one? Perhaps not, unless i want to layer them to dress as a cabbage for a school play.

The year I started to practice slowing down, walking not running, speaking not shooting phrases, meditating not mind wondering.

The year my first oil portait appeared on public display. Signed by the most talented artist, my daughter.

The year of small girly harmless complots.

The year which mocked the physical distance for the charity project close to my heart.

The year of the coolest compliment from a kid to its mom.

The year I started a book.

The year a stranger grew into calling you “one of the best moments of the passing year” and “the year’s highlight”. Aren’t we all moments which create this beautiful life?

The year my lips tasted Cusco hot chocolate the first time.

The year I met Goleman, the father of emotional intelligence. By the way, his research shows that “messages do not talk and have no tone”. I case someone tells you they did not like the tone of your message ;).

The year I made a little garden of office plants saved from neglect.

The year a Christmas tree was saved by prints of our hands on a white canvas… for new pages to be written in the coming years.